


Year One

by Withmaximumeffort



Series: 110 years [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Healing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Will add more tags as I go, actually no there isn't but i'm leaving that tag because it autocorrected to that, cause i refuse, it's freaking hilarious cause I wrote "may become explicit", not explicit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-03-04 22:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withmaximumeffort/pseuds/Withmaximumeffort
Summary: Restoring Harry James Potter would be a more difficult task than previously thought. A year ago, Voldemort would have been ecstatic. Funny how life changed.





	1. And it begins

Voldemort sat in his office contemplating life, quietly raging at his circumstances while absentmindedly stroking Adro’s silky ear. So far, returning Harry back to humanity was one of the most difficult tasks of the Dark Emperor’s life. Not because he didn’t think he could fix the broken boy, but because nothing was on schedule. Voldemort was planning to have everything settled by the end of the year but Harry refused to cooperate.

 

It was 2 months since the annexation of the EAU and things were moving as smoothly on that front as any takeover could amidst the blooming May flowers. The trade routes established between Europe and East Africa alone were a great boost to the European Economy. It was a shame it took this long to start expanding. Wizards lived for too damn long and had longer grudges. It took one hundred years just to make sure his rule was solidified (and to get the Golden Boy to submit). 

 

The influx of new ideas, potions and spells was a buoyant to their stagnating economy. Too many European idiots with their misconceptions believed the Old European Way was the only way and scorned all other sources of magic. Once Voldemort had the European Old Ways protected by law, he then had to beat some sense into his Death Eaters. Literally. How could they scorn magic just because it originated from a country not from Europe or America? It was pathetic and was stunting Wizardry growth as a whole. Particularly since European cultures did not believe in innovation.

 

But the situation with Harry was more frustrating than dealing with all those problems combined. 

 

Voldemort had tried everything from moving the boy into living quarters with a flood of natural lighting to fixing the boy’s eyesight. He no longer touched the Harry in a sexual manner. Meals no longer needed to be taken at the Dark Emperor’s feet and Harry was free to wander around the complex as he pleased. However, the boy did not leave his side unless directed to. Voldemort had even returned the holly and phoenix feather wand to the boy and was surprised to see the look on his face. Harry had stared at the wand like a muggle stared at a twig branch and promptly gave it back. That action disturbed Voldemort the most. A wizard should never forget his magic let alone his wand. It was proof Potter was well and truly broken. Restoring Harry James Potter would be a more difficult task than previously thought. A year ago, Voldemort would have been ecstatic. Funny how life changed. 

 

Now Voldemort was waiting on his most trusted Mind healer to arrive. It was a testament to how much he had...underestimated the situation and his abilities since it took this long to call in a professional. Hopefully, no crucios would be needed since he actually liked this Malfoy descendent. The slight growl of Adro and the knock on his office door startled him out of his thoughts. 

 

“Come in.”

 

“Your majesty.”

 

The constant bowing of the followers was getting tiring.

 

“Rise.”

 

“Thank you, your majesty.”

 

Astrid Malfoy-Da Silva was as lovely as her namesake. She had the stereotypical Malfoy blond hair that fell to waist length and a poise that many women in this day and age couldn’t dream to have. Her eyes were the Black wolf grey eyes with accents of black. In short, she was a stunning woman who turned heads as she walked and was the pride and joy of her parents. It had taken the Malfoys and Blacks nearly inbreeding themselves into oblivion before doing something radical. Draco’s son would have been punished more severely for his actions if the results had been any less fruitful. After a short crucio session, Scorpius had shakely admitted he and his wife, Portia née Black, visited a muggle doctor in desperation for a child only to be told the married couple’s was too close in relation to allow for a healthy, normal baby due to something called “genes” and “DNA.” Scorpius and Portia then demanded all research on the subject before obliviating the muggle. What they found, was alarming enough to pay a mudblood to donate an egg and carry the new Malfoy progeny. The child was then blood adopted by Portia after sending the mudblood on her way. The result was a nymph-like child with a connection to the Malfoy family magics generations before had not experienced since the start of modern wizardry. The long dormant Veela thrall had returned with a vengeance in Astrid along with frightening control over fire elemental spells. Astrid, in her 29th year was now married to one of the only Portuguese families with blood of the High Elves who disappeared some 2000 plus years ago with a 3 year-old son.

 

The Malfoy success jump started a campaign to bring mudbloods back into the British Wizarding fold. It originally began as a breeding program that was quickly revamped when it became clear the mother’s magic would reject the child if the impregnation was forced. Now, the process operated on magical contracts and the British population was no longer in danger of extinction. 

 

For the first year of the social change, Voldemort was too preoccupied to notice. In all of the excitement of winning the war and modeling Harry into the perfect slave, he had forgotten to research infertility rates of purebloods and to provide a solution. It was good that Scorpius had found it himself, even if he had crucioed the man.

 

Adro rose to his feet, shoulder height to the Mind healer, and sniffed. He walked by the tense healer before phasing through the office door in search of...whatever the giant cat was looking for. Voldemort internally smirked when he saw Astrid blink more times than necessary. All rooms the cubs were allowed to visit had doors spelled to let them walk through when approached. It provided great entertainment at the expense of unsuspecting Death Eaters. 

 

“Astrid, I have a matter of great importance that needs taken care of as soon as possible.” She nodded with a small curtsy.

 

“I will do my best, Your Majesty.” She didn’t have a choice but it was left unsaid.

 

“You have heard of a Harry James Potter in my...care have you not?”

 

Astrid froze while looking at Voldemort in slight fear. Ah yes, he had made mentioning anything about Potter a taboo at one point. No one was allowed to speak of the Golden Boy, let alone say his birth name lest they wanted an automatic sentencing for treason. The old generation referred to Harry as his slave, whore, the Fallen One and any other slur they could think of. While the newer generation new nothing outside of his occasional public “punishments.” Even then, the boy was glamoured in the later years to prevent recognition. Actually looking back, the Lady Da Silva was not a part of those...demonstrations. As a healer, she was oath bound not to cause harm and to come to the aid of those who were. Hence why all of his healers were exempt from most Death Eater meetings and all raids. 

 

Still, she must have heard his name in passing somewhere. Astrid would be privy to many conversations that she was oath bound to keep confidential.

 

“You may relax, I know there are still those who talk of the boy. I also know I need not worry about your loyalty.”

 

Her hands trembled slightly before she answered. “Of course not my Lord.”

 

“Hmm. Follow me.”

 

Voldemort swept by the woman out of his office without looking back with the full expectation that his Healer would follow. Yes, he had no reason to worry as he had gleaned from her mind her loyalty without question. But it was still important to verbally confirm.

 

He walked down the hall, stopping before the entrance to the sunroom. 

“I trust you can be discrete. What I’m about to show you does not leave this room.”

 

The woman looked nauseous. But it mattered not. Astrid would do her job or perish. Voldemort stepped inside before she could respond and stop to watch the scene. Adro had migrated his way to lie with his brother in the middle of a beam of sunlight but that was not what gave the Dark Emperor pause. Voldemort was always surprised to see Harry Potter in his new clothing however the boy looked real sitting on the floor amongst light rays while being flanked by two nundi cubs. It was a change from seeing Harry in nothing more than a loincloth for the better a century and changed to a surface. The young man’s hair now fell in long, thick, waves to just beyond his shoulder, however he no longer had need for the hideous glasses. After watching the cubs rest beside an unmoving Harry, Voldemort turned back to his Healer. 

 

“You are tasked with hs mental care. His mental faculties are...not what they once were and I want them restored.”

 

Voldemort watched as the woman's eyes enlarged before falling back on her Malloy mask. She seemed to fidget before drawing a breath. 

 

“Is there a deadline my lord? To restore him?”

 

If there was one thing that needed delicate handling it was the mind. Voldemort had not taken the time researching solutions to a shattered mind as his goal was always more destructive. It was probably best to leave the timeline to a professional.

 

“No. I can be patient. As long as there is steady progress, you shall be rewarded. I expect weekly updates on the situation.”

 

Ah, back to bowing.

 

“Of course, my Lord.” 

 

The Dark Emperor walked to Harry on the carpeted floor and lifted the boy’s chin to look into lifeless green eyes. 

 

“Harry, you are to follow what Healer Da Silva requires of you. Understood?”

 

The boy did not respond, but he knew the orders would be followed. 

  
  


Voldemort waved the healer towards her new charge as he sat one of the chairs to observe the proceedings. 

 

“You have the floor Healer Da Silva, I would so hate to be disappointed.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Step 1 (of an unknown amount) to recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The few patients brought to the hospital exclaiming about Harry Potter did nothing but foster disbelief within the medical staff. Astrid herself believed the boy a fictional creation of the Rebellion, nothing more than a rallying cry to follow much like the muggle Jesus. However, seeing the man in front of her changed her perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What!!! Did I just put out a second chapter within 1 month!!! Guys, this is my de-stressor from school because I just had exams. I hope you like it. This is going to be a much bigger project than it was supposed to be because Harry and then Astrid and of course 'cause Voldemort. then the twin cubs are like...so yeah. i'm tired. i have no idea what i just said. sorry. lov y'all and i love the reviews. I even responded like a responsible adult!!! Also, I's gots no beta so glaring mistakes and grammar that make your eyeballs curl galore.

Astrid wasn’t sure how she got herself into these situations. When she was called by her lord this morning, she wasn’t expecting to be brought before the mythical Boy Who Lived. Nowadays, the general populace didn’t know that boy existed, much less was a boy who opposed the Dark emperor in the past. The few patients brought to the hospital exclaiming about Harry Potter did nothing but foster disbelief within the medical staff. Astrid herself believed the boy a fictional creation of the Rebellion, nothing more than a rallying cry to follow much like the muggle Jesus. However, seeing the man in front of her changed her perspective.

 

It was a strange thing to see the man who supposedly lead the resistance 100 years ago not look a day over 21 and sit on a couch with a face as still as marble. The stories some patients were all too eager to relay made the Boy-Who-Lived seem larger than life. The person in their memories stood tall on cliffs, looked down on the masses with a holy golden light as a guide to weary souls, and had a righteous, grand appearance. He feared nothing, was invincible, and had the strength of 10 men with the magic of 50. After seeing Harry Potter in the flesh, Lady De Silva was not sure what to think. 

 

Harry Potter was a thin man with riotous near black hair that tumbled to his shoulders. He wore a strange black long sleeve sweater with a collar that she vaguely remembers was called heap by muggles 100 years ago. His pants were a black jean material tucked into equally black calf high boots. A deep green robe was thrown across his shoulders and open to display his wardrobe. He gave off a statuesque feel, like someone tried to immortalize a vision of an influential Lord. The mind healer probably would have jumped if Harry Potter had moved to shake hands or bow so still he was. Astrid had to focus to make sure he was still breathing. She looked over to the Emperor who responded with an almost imperceptible nod towards her new charge. She took a deep breath, walked over to the man and began.

 

“Harry, my name is Astrid, it’s nice to meet you.”

 

There was no reaction outside of his eyes continuing to stare straight ahead, like no one else was in the room. It was disconcerting to see someone’s eyes so empty of life. Astrid didn't want to know what broke the boy to this point, but in order to start mending the pieces she would have to see how far the damage went. 

 

“Harry , I need you to keep eye contact with me. Is that alright?”

 

When all she received was a continuance of the blank stare, she decided to start. 

 

Entering Harry’s mind was less like opening a door and more like falling straight into a pit filled with suffocating, poisonous, blackness. It was so utterly dark, Astrid was nearly sure she had entered the mind of a corpse. Nothing in her 7 years came close to this case. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed a flickering, very dim barely there light far in the distance. So she made her way towards it. It felt like hours moving through the tangible, sludge-like darkness. The atmosphere bore down on her lungs and Astrid found herself short of breath with every step. She was almost afraid to find the core of Harry POtter’s memories. Anything that caused this level of loss of brain activity was sure to be traumatizing to watch, let alone live through. 

 

Finally, she came upon a structure. The light was illuminating a dilapidated wooden door with its peeling paint and chips of wood missing. There was a small eye-sized hole that allowed her to see the swirling madness of fragmented glass hidden behind. Astrid took a breath, walked through and was immediately thrown into a memory.

 

_ “Harry Potter you have remained as obstinate and foolhardy as the old man raised you to be. Constantly with your rebellions.”  _

 

_ Harry didn’t speak but his eyes showed he wasn’t broken just yet. Harry knew that he couldn’t give in. Watching Hermione and Ron die in front of him so many years ago was still fresh within his memory, fanning the flame of hatred he felt towards this twisted creature. He couldn’t give up. There were sure to be people still fighting for the cause. But every year that went by, it was getting harder and harder to remain strong and keep a backbone of steel. Steel was strong but given the right chemicals and enough time, it would erode. Harry felt like he was eroding from the inside out. Fracturing into tiny pieces and barely able to glue himself together in the morning. The unimaginable horrors he faced under Voldemort’s care was wearing its toll on his mind. The nightmares came in his every waking moment and he had come to love his moments in solitary away from that snake face. Some days were lost to him and the strings of insanity were pulling tighter around his psyche. Memories disappeared at increasing rates with increasing frequency now. It felt like the ex-Boy-Who-Lived was walking through a fog. Those moments of lucidity were getting few and far between. Harry wasn’t sure how much he could take. Whether he wanted to or not, Harry would give in because at the end of the day, he was human. And Voldemort could sense it. The evil man’s ever pressing and growing joy pushed through their connection with sick glee. _

 

_ “You have been a most irritating enemy. What is it that drives you. Love?” Voldemort sneered in derision. “Or do you think you will be saved? Are you sure there is anyone waiting to be saved? You are but a relic in time harry and I have the proof to show you.” _

 

_ Voldemort looked unbelievable smug as he waved his hand over a pensive, causing the memory to float for Harry to above the silvery liquid.  _

 

_ Harry watched as a man approached a child no older than seven looking for a book. He didn’t recognize them but he truly hoped the child wasn’t used as some sick way to mentally torture him. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened. Watching kids suffer was a sure fire way for Harry to lose more lucid moments.  _

 

**_“Hello child did you need help?”_ **

 

**_The poor child was on his tiptoes trying to reach a multicolored spine of a book._ **

 

**_“I can’t reach.”_ **

 

**_The man casually reached towards to child, making Harry’s heart jump in his chest but the man merely reached past and grabbed the intended book. He looked over the title and smirked before handing it over to the child._ **

 

**_“Ah here, I see you like grand stories of adventure.”_ **

 

**_“Yeah they are the best!! I love adventures with heros and stuff.”_ **

 

**_Such an innocent smile and the boy didn’t even know how much danger he was in._ **

**_“Ah me as well. My favorite are the ones about Harry Potter.”_ **

 

**_The child tilted his head to the side. And said two words that nearly shattered Harry._ **

 

**_“Who’s that?”_ **

 

_ Harry’s heart stopped again. There was...No it was fine the child was seven he logically wouldn’t know. The pounding of his heart resummed and it was like a macabre ringing in his head. _

 

**_“Castello, where are you?”_ **

 

**_The child skipped over to a harried looking woman who immediately grabbed the boy’s hand and made a move to walk away_ **

 

**_“Mom, mom this man told me about Harry Potter? And his adventures. Do you know of him? Harry Potter? I wanna read his stories!! They sound fun!!”_ **

 

_ Harry waited with baited breath for her answer. The increasing confusion on the woman’s face erased what little hope was left. _

 

**_“No honey, I have never heard that story. We can ask grandpa, he’s waiting in the sitting area for us.”_ **

 

_ Harry felt himself fracture more as he watched the mother and son walk through the aisles of the bookstore towards an elderly man sitting in a circle of couches with a book in his hand. _

 

**_“Grandpa!!!_ **

 

**_“Ah there you are!! Did you find what you were looking for Castello? You sure kept me waiting you little squirt.”_ **

 

_ Watching the old ruffle the boy’s hair filled Harry with longing. When was the last time he had been touched with anything other than malice? Harry wasn’t even sure how much time had passed.  _

 

**_“Hey grandpa, do you know of the story of Harry Potter?”_ **

 

The old man’s face went blank before he adopted a look of confusion. 

 

**_“No, son. I have no idea who that is. Is this a new character in one of your books?”_ **

 

_ By now, Harry was no longer listening. What had he struggled for? What had he remained obstinate for? What did his unending years of torture prove? Nothing. The old man didn’t even know the Boy-Who-Lived was but three generations had already passed. This was more than enough to prove Harry Potter’s nonexistence.   _

 

_ The memory faded away but Harry never noticed. He could hear the sound of Voldemort’s malicious voice slithering through the air but it sounded like if was moving through water. _

 

_ “It was quite informative. The old man had just hit his 83rd year about 10 years after the end of the war. How delicious. Ten years in and everyone forgot. For 90 years, you haven’t existed and you didn’t even know.”  _

 

_ Harry broke and Voldemort cackled with glee.  _

 

Astrid carefully removed herself from the memory but remained within her patient’s mind. Here, she could allow the man’s emotions to affect her like she wouldn’t be able to in the presence of the Dark emperor. She could still feel the overwhelming feelings of despair and helplessness battering against her own mental shields before they had abruptly ended with harry’s shattered psyche The moment where the small fragment of resentment, rage and defiance broke left a lasting pain like her ribs were crushing her lungs. It was like her body was determined to not breath due to pain but also breath greedily for survival in equal measure. Harry had hid the last of himself in that defiance and it was eagerly crushed beneath the hands of her Lord. In another person, the event might not have been as traumatizing, but she could feel Harry’s desire to be remembered along with his fear that the populace had forgotten or worse deemed him not important enough to save, that he had let everyone down and this was his punishment  It was all so very devastating. It was the last straw that rendered Harry Potter nothing more than a doll. 

 

For the first time in her life Astrid De Silva shed a tear for an enemy that she quickly wiped away. The memories were sure to be more disturbing as she delved deeper so she steeled herself for future interactions. Today would have to be the end of her memory viewing but not the end of her task.

 

First order of business: creating an ordered realm for his memories to be placed once she had reviewed them one by one. The De Silva matriarch walked back out the door before focusing her magic into the surrounding space. Imagining a basic sitting room surrounded by bookshelves, she shaped the dark realm into a small study with empty shelf space for the memory books. Once Harry was restored, he would be able to model the place into anything he wanted. The room did not extend far and could not encompass  a small fraction of the suffocating black emptiness but it was a start. Astrid would have to return everyday to maintain the space until her charge could affect it himself. The shelves finished forming not too long later with no resistance from Harry’s mind. Quickly moving back towards the door not situated between to floor-to-ceiling bookshelves behind a desk, she focused on the memory she just viewed. The memory condensed into a small palm sized book that automatically flew to a shelf. The job was completed for the day.

 

The mind healer slowly retracted herself from her charge’s mind only to be blinded by the evening sun rays passing through the window. How many hours were spent in the man’s mind? The nundu cubs were gone and her Lord was no longer observing. 

 

Just then, the Dark emperor walked into the room and stared long enough for Astrid to be uncomfortable. 

 

“You are finished for the day?”

 

“Yes my Lord. I do not know how long it will take. Presumably i should only have to view and organize enough memories for Harry to be able to move them himself and reintegrate his consciousness but I was only able to get through one memory today.”

 

“Hmm. I see.”

 

The Dark emperor looked inpatient, but Astrid knew if she lied and her Lord caught her  lie the consequences would have been dire. The stare was back and she did her best to look confident about her medical decision. The emperor waved her away in dismissal and Astrid quickly yet elegantly left the room. Astrid walked through the hallways in a daze. Once again, she wasn't sure what she got herself into but it was bound to be a harrowing experience.

  
  


Unfortunately with treating her new patient, the mind healer would now get a first-hand experience into the actions of her Lord and his followers during Death Eater meetings all healers were excluded from. It was an experience she no longer looked forward to seeing.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be on the look out for chapter 3. coming soon to a theater near you... yeah sleep time!!


	3. The beginnings of the Boy-Who-Lived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was the sound of a slap and metal clanging to the ground. Astrid quickly made her way towards the house that made the sounds. She phased through the front door in time to see a massively rotund man use all his power to slap a small wisp of a boy. The child couldn’t be more than 5 years. He had bruises on his arms and legs and crooked glasses that were definitely broken at some point. They were barely held together with the tape in between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has child abuse. I apologize if this might trigger anyone or if it gives anyone flashbacks or pain. For those who have gone through something similar or are going through something now I want to let you know that there is someone, a group of someones, willing and ready to listen. To help you through the situation and get you back on your feet. I hope that whenever you are ready or whenever you feel safe enough to, you reach out to get the help and support you deserve.
> 
> No one should have these experiences. No matter what anyone tells you, You. Do. Not. Deserve. It. Period. It is not your destiny. It is not your place. It is not your fault. And it is assuredly not the only thing you are good for. 
> 
> Sorry for the rant and if I might have offended someone.

Astrid found herself walking towards the Dark Emperor’s manor at 9:00 am sharp the next day trying to control her rising anxiety before she reached the front door. She took a deep breath before stepping to the mahogany and glass behemoth of a door and knocked. The door opened to show a small little creature in a emerald green dress over a crisp white long sleeve shirt. The dress had the Slytherin coat of arms with a crown above it to signify the Emperor's personal house elves. 

 

“Aurora will show you to the Master and Master Emperor sirs.” 

 

Astrid blinked at the name and the almost proper grammar but followed all the same. She was lead to the same sun room from yesterday. Harry was once again sitting in a beam of light with the dark emperor sitting across from him. There were no nundu cubs in sight, for which she was very grateful. She bowed before rising again.

 

“Good morning, my lord.”

 

Lord Voldemort merely hummed in a non committal manner without looking up from his paper. It was nerve wracking, standing before her Lord without him acknowledge her presence. It was like he was waiting for a mistake. In her nervousness, she barely restrained a yelp when the house elf spoke again.

 

“Aurora will bring breakfast now.” Then it popped out. It’s speaking pattern was strange and the name was odd. 

 

“I told them to learn proper grammar or I would release them into the wild for Nagini to hunt.”

 

Astrid was not able to control her startled reaction this time. Had she asked something so inane out loud?

 

“Needless to say they learned. As for the name, I care not what they call themselves. They named their own children.”

 

Was she supposed to respond to that? 

 

In her anxiety, she had forgotten that the Dark Emperor was privy to all her thoughts. Did she sound as utterly nonsensical in her head as she thought? House elf grammar and naming wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things! Why was her stupid brain so focused on it? The stress was making her insane.

 

Lord Voldemort looked amused. He waved towards his charge.

 

“You may begin.”

 

“Thank you my Lord.”

 

She quickly moved in front of the Potter man on the floor before she did something else stupid. The man was in a long flowing gold robe that pooled around his form like a golden river. It was embroidered with pale wyverns that moved along his body and it covered a black turtleneck in black pants that ran into black dragonhide boots. Astrid was stunned once again by her patient’s dress. It was mind numbing to think her master might have picked the clothes himself. But it was weirder that her mind was focused on such unimportant things...again.

 

Shaking her head, Astrid gracefully sat in front of Potter. It was time to focus.

 

“Potter, It’s Astrid. I will be re-entering your mind, okay?”

 

Once again, Harry didn’t respond. Astrid dived in at once. 

 

_ She landed in the office she had constructed for the first batch of memories and quickly made her way through the door towards the swirling mass of memory crystals. One flew near and she was immediately sucked into the memory. _

 

_ The scene that awaited her was much different from what she expected. She stood on the corner of some street with two rows of houses that looked like someone cast a duplication charm. Every yard had the same cut grass and immaculate front yard that screamed overcompensation. Like the street was competing in who would have the best looking lot. It was disturbing. It felt stale, like nothing exciting ever came close to the neighborhood. _

 

_ “BOY!!!” _

 

_ “Coming Uncle Vernon!” _

 

_ “Too damn slow!”  _

 

_ There was the sound of a slap and metal clanging to the ground. Astrid quickly made her way towards the house that made the sounds. She phased through the front door in time to see a massively rotund man use all his power to slap a small wisp of a boy. The child couldn’t be more than 5 years. He had bruises on his arms and legs and crooked glasses that were definitely broken at some point. They were barely held together with the tape in between them.   _

 

_ The child hit the ground hard, barely able to protect his head before meeting the hard tile kitchen floor.  _

 

_ “Get up boy! You still have chores. I won’t have you lazing about and not working!!!” _

 

_ “Yes Uncle Vernon.” The child looked up and Astrid would recognize that shade of green anywhere. There was no one who had such eyes but Harry Potter. _

 

_ Astrid was contemplating ways to make this memory real so she could enter it and strangle the pig-whale’s neck. What type of monster hits a child so hard and obviously so often that he falls and  _ knows _ to protect his head? She couldn’t imagine anyone hurting her son like this.  _ They would burn first.

 

_ The Potter boy quickly scurried to the fridge, pulling out a ridiculous amount of eggs, bacon, tomatoes, bangers, mushrooms, black beans, and toast. The boy slaved over the bangers and bacon, made sure the tomatoes and mushrooms were grilled to perfection, and had the black beans cooking on the back burner all at the same time. During this, a horse-lady came down the stairs and proceeded to berate the boy for every perceived nonexistent slight, but he said not a word. _

 

_ The boy worked with the efficiency of a sous-chef. Astrid took this time to explore the living room before she did something reckless and hurt her patient’s mind. The living room was painted with the most disturbing stripes, clashing with the floral paint in the kitchen. Pictures of a family of three hung on the walls next to giant pictures of another child who looked like a mini whale. None had Harry. There was no evidence in the house that more than 3 lived there. If Astrid hadn’t seen the boy cooking in the kitchen, she would have assumed the family only consisted of one child. _

 

_ But it all went to hippogriff shit when said mini whale came thundering down the steps.  _

 

_ “Mummy, where’s my food.” _

 

_ “It’s coming, my little Dinky Duddydums.”  That was the most atrocious nickname the mind healer had ever heard. At least she hoped it was a nickname. _

 

_ However she wasn’t able to process the name because the boy was running into the kitchen. _

 

_ “Where’s my food freak?” _

 

_ “It’s almost done, Dudley.”  _

 

_ “Well hurry up!! I want it now! Liar the bacon’s finished!” _

 

_ “No wait!!” _

 

_ It was too late, because whale-boy grabbed for a handful of the newly made bacon and burned his hand. He screamed unholy hell and his parents came running like a cerberus was after them.  _

 

_ “Oh my poor Diddy, what happened?” _

 

_ The child turned to Harry with a nasty grin on his face and the poor Potter boy paled.  _

 

_ “The freak burned me.” _

 

_ The horse screeched a Merlin cursed noise. “HOW DARE YOU HURT MY BABY!” _

 

_ “No I didn’t…” _

 

_ The boy was slapped across the face so hard Astrid herself flinched. _

 

_ “ARE YOU CALLING MY BOY A LIAR! I’LL TEACH YOU TO HURT MY DUDLEY.” _

 

_ And the horse grabbed  the boys hands and seared them into the still hot coils of the stove. The scream that followed brought tears to her eyes and even caused the disgusting miniwhale to flinch and pale. But the worst was yet to come as the bitch  _ held. him. there. as she continued to press the harder. The horse’s face was twisted into a perverted expression of amusement, rage, and satisfaction.  _ Astrid wanted to vomit. They smell of burning flesh was strong and how could no one in the neighborhood hear this!? _

 

_ Then the pig-whale grabbed Potter by his hands, making the child scream more and proceeded to drag the child to a  _ cupboard under the stairs _. Potter was thrown in without a care.  _

 

_ “NO FOOD FOR A WEEK. YOU UNGRATEFUL FREAK!! AND KEEP IT QUIET.” _

 

_ Astrid hadn’t realized her hands were covering her mouth or that they were shaking until she rushed after the child. Potter lay whimpering in pain on a bed,  _ a bed in a cupboard, _ trying to keep as little contact with his hands as possible. Astrid didn’t have her supplies on her. For a brief moment, she dashed around the room for anything to use before coming back to herself. There was no way Harry would know what to do with those supplies and he was in too much pain to administer anything to himself. Then she remembered that this was just a memory and her heart broke for the child. _

 

_ Harry shouldn’t be in this situation! Astrid was fuming, livid, overflowing with unquenchable rage but there was nothing that could be done. The burns were bad, at least 2nd degree and needed to be healed soon with a couple rounds of antibiotics or an infection would settle in. There were blisters forming on the boys fingers but the palms. Oh Merlin, the skin sloughed off like tissue and the flesh underneath was bloody and charred. For 2 days Astrid sat at Harry Potter’s head, feeling the weight of her impotence, as she watched an infection do just that. Potter was feverish and his hands looked like he would lose them soon if he didn’t receive treatment. The boy could very well die if his fever didn’t break and the infection spread to his blood. The mother in her, wanted to wipe his brow of the sweat, comfort him, take him to St. Mungo’s and tuck him into the softest bed money could buy. The Malfoy in her wanted to scream bloody murder and remind these muggles their place.  _

 

_ She couldn’t do either. This was only a memory and nothing could erase the past. Not one this traumatic.  _

 

_ The mind healer in her could feel every stab of pain, every internal cry of loneliness and betrayal, every piercing jolt of confusion. Every  _ why is it me?what did I do?oh it hurts!Help! Please!Anyone!I’ll be good Aunt Petunia, please! _ripped through Astrid’s rib cage like she was made of butter. Tears fell silently down her face without her notice._

 

_ 3 more days past. Miraculously the fever broke. The boy started to get better even with the occasional bang on the door to keep his pained whimpers quiet. How dare they!! Harry was barely making a sound as it is. What more could they want?  _

 

_ 5 days later, no scar, no evidence of infection, and Harry was finally sleeping peacefully with no pain. But she wasn’t fooled. The magic around his hands felt like a glamour. The boy’s hands were not fully healed, would definitely scar and no longer had feeling. Otherwise, he would still be in pain with every rustle of the sheets that passed over his hands. The pig-whale opened the door threw a water bottle in a week and a half after the incident with a stale piece of bread and some nearly molding cheese. The memory ended.  _

 

Astrid was ejected back to the mind office with one more sinister book in her hand. She quickly placed it on the shelves, sure that the malevolence could seep out and infect her hands. 

 

5 more child abuse memories later, all before the age of  _ 11, _ and Harry was finally starting to sort the same themed memories on his own. The other memories were not as severe in terms of physical punishment. Those horrid mudbloods did not escalate to that level again because their whale-boy had had nightmares for a week after. Harry still received slaps but she could tell what really wounded the child were the words. The casual disregard for the child's life, the snide comments, the demonizing. it was too much for a child to take. Astrid had never been happier to leave a mind and regroup. 

 

She left Harry’s mind, dazed with wet cheeks. Her Lord was nowhere to be seen but she felt a pulse in her dark mark guiding her to his study. She quickly wiped her face and proceeded to meet her lord. The walk felt hours long and seconds short. The memories she had seen twirled around in her head over and over and over again like a demented pensive. She shook her head and came to the realization she was standing outside of Emperor Voldemort’s office. She quickly knocked. There was no point in keeping him waiting.

 

The Dark Emperor was casually sitting in an armchair with a leg thrown over a knee and papers held in his hand on his lap. He looked remarkable...human with such a gesture. He flipped a page. 

 

“I take it that your session was successful?”

 

“It was my Lord.”

 

Her Lord stared. Astrid controlled the urge to squirm. She hoped he didn’t ask for specifics. Mind healers had more strict clauses on patient confidentiality than normal healers. Patient consent always needed to be given to discuss findings. There was too much damage that could be done to a mind with irreversible consequences.

 

“You may leave.”

 

“Thank you my Lord.”

 

As soon as she hit the outer wards, she apparated home. She remained frozen in their receiving room, lost in thought

 

What...just what did she just experience? There was literally no excuse for that behavior. Nothing ,  _ absolutely nothing _ could make any rational, sane, person harm a child so frequently and so severely like she saw in those memories. Merlin, her body still shook with Harry’s overflowing emotions. Her hands trembled every time she remembered a stifled whimper of pain as the young boy tried to be as quiet as he could. Her heart broke for a boy who very nearly died while locked away in a place fit to be a coffin with no one to help.  How could her Lord excuse such behavior. No… her Lord probably didn’t know. Astrid stifled her own sob. Seeing a child so vulnerable truly hurt. Harry was barely older than her own son at the time, for Morgana’s sake!!

 

“Are you alright, minha querida?”

 

Astrid hadn’t realized she was waiting for someone to ask, but as soon as she started speaking she knew she needed to unload. Bless her husband for coming to retrieve her. Astrid felt like she was falling apart. 

 

“NO! Who abuses a child, Adalberto? And justifies it as ‘paying dues or payback for care?’”

 

Pacing was the only way to keep her sanity intact and to not go hunting down descendants of those despicable people. She may be a healer but she was still a Malfoy and Malfoys made sure all their children were  _ thoroughly _ educated in all things. Some of that... _ education _ could be put to good use. Plus, focusing on the anger prevented the tears.

 

“Maybe you should start from the beginning, my love? As we settle into the sunroom with evening snacks?

 

The healer calmed enough to stare at her husband. Adalberto was a 6’ 4 man of gracefulness and poise that put everyone she has ever met but her Lord to shame. Her husband still wouldn’t say if his ability to practically glide instead of walk was something inherent because of his elven blood or something taught by his family at a young age. The man would get the most infuriating expression of amusement whenever Astrid asked in their earlier years. He would turn in a way that caused his curly black shoulder length hair to literally float around his head by an invisible wind and say “Whatever do you mean, my love” with his twinkling midnight blue eyes. The man could be truly maddening at times but he was her rock. Adalberto was there whenever she couldn’t cope with losing patients at work or whenever the stress of a day weighed her down like the combined mass of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were on her shoulders. 

 

Today, she needed the support and serenity that blanketed her husband in an all encompassing cloud. 

 

Astrid sighed and weakly smiled. “I could use a nightcap.” Adalberto gently weaved her arm in his and placed a lingering kiss to her lips.

 

“Then come, and you can tell me about your day.”

 

Later that night when she had unloaded her worries without giving specifics, Astrid put her precious son to bed, sitting next to him like a dragon guarding her hoard. Adalberto placed a kiss to the side of her head before gently leaving the room.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been done for awhile but I hated it and I still do but I can’t let y’all wait so long. Apparently, the husband and child want to show up in the story now. You'll be seeing more from them as they continue to bully there way into the story line. 
> 
> I have no beta so any mistakes are sorely mine.
> 
> *bows* thank you for still supporting me and for all the comments I will be responding to over the next few days.
> 
>  
> 
> *dodges fruit* I love you all
> 
> *dodges pots* Updates for other stories soon
> 
> *dodges chainsaw* ...that escalated quickly but still love you!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys sorry for the long wait. I'm not really happy with it so i was holding off but I can't keep staring at it hoping it transforms from a poisonous mushroom to a white truffle (not sure why I used mushrooms as comparisons. Probably because I'm earning about alpha-amanitin inhibits mRNA function leading to no transcribed proteins which further leads...wait y'all could care less. Sorry about the rant) It was supposed to be a Christmas gift...then a new year's gift...but now its now...sorry I love you forever for those who subscribed and actually like this thing.


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